Wild Hunt of the Storm
by OlegGunnarsson
Summary: After a battle gone wrong, Jim Raynor encounters a most unlikely warrior in the Nexus. After a portal gone wrong, Geralt of Rivia tries to find Ciri in one of the strangest forests he has ever encountered...


Jim Raynor desperately needed to sit down and rest.

He had been walking through the forest for an hour, at least, with no end in sight. Normally, here in the nexus, you could find your way to a portal or some sort of shelter - different worlds, different places, were all cobbled together in some sort of hodge podge landmass. Seeing an expanse of forest this massive was rare indeed.

It didn't help that his armor had been damaged. Communications were out, and he lacked even the ability to summon the nexus' version of the Hyperion . So calling for help was out. He had some suit rations, such as they were, and water was plentiful. His suit could purify any amount necessary. Power wasn't going to be an issue, thanks to the wonders of cold fusion.

 _So other than exhaustion and limited ammunition and not knowing where the hell I am, everything is aces._

He was walking with his visor opened. This helped him spare the suit's air supply, but it also help him get a better feel for his surroundings. Kerrigan would tease him about it, back in the day, but he would just shake his head and shoot at the zerg she hadn't seen coming. Even if it was a placebo effect, it made him feel sharper - and that had its own value.

The smells of battle were the downside, but the open forest had none of those. Just the cool night breeze, carrying a hint of… _I must be hungry_ , he thought. _That smells like cooked steak_.

His suit beeped softly, and the display in his helmet indicated a thermal warning to the west. _Someone was playing with fire_ , he thought. He started moving in that direction. The armor did not really allow for stealth, but walking slowly and deliberately could keep the noise of his footsteps to a minimum.

The quiet scrape of steel caught his ear, and he slowly brought his weapon up. He had known enough warriors of the nexus to recognize a sword being unsheathed. What he couldn't tell is where they were.

Ahead, Jim Raynor saw a clearing, and at its center were three bodies. One was charred, and embers still glowed. _There's my thermal warning_ , he thought. _Ick_. The body looked like a human, but it was unclear in the dark.

The two other bodies were unburnt. One had armor that looked familiar. That one lay on its side, and as Raynor nudged the man over he saw the proud crest of Old Lordaeron on his armor. The other man was also armored, though in a completely different style. His armor had black and gold symbols across the bulged-out chest piece.

Raynor looked at the embers, thoughtful. Then he stood up straight and secured his weapon. Opening his hands, he spoke. "I've put my weapon away, you can come out now."

To his surprise, Raynor heard movement behind him. The voice, when it spoke, was harsh and weary.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Jim Raynor. Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter. Where is she?"

Raynor turned his head in his armor, trying to get a look at the man. "Who? I'm here alone, my group and I were separated."

The man sounded tired and bitter. "Your group?" he spat.

"My group." Raynor responded, as calmly as possible. "I was with two blonde women, a minotaur, and a Protoss. We fought several hours ago, and I was blasted clear of the arena. When I made it back, my group - along with the battleground - had vanished."

Raynor could sense the man approaching him from behind. "The women, what were their names?" This was less an ambush and more an interrogation, it seemed.

"One is a sorceress named Jaina Proudmoore. The other is a soldier, codename Nova."

The man circled around him, and when he came into view Raynor saw that he did indeed have his sword at the ready - and a second sword on his back. His black chain armor seemed to have been designed for quiet movement, as were the leather boots and gloves the man wore. The only insignia visible was a small medallion around the man's neck, though Raynor could not make out a design. White hair framed a scarred face. There's something about his eyes , Raynor thought. They were almost like a cat's.

Then Jim figured it out. The look of determination, coupled with the questions, asked and unasked… when you added it up, only one answer presented itself.

"Do you know where you are?" Raynor asked.

"No." the man replied, truthfully. He waved a hand in front of Raynor's face, and there was a brief light. "But you do, don't you."

"Maybe. Want to not murder me while I explain?" Raynor nodded toward the sword.

The man frowned, but sheathed his sword. Raynor wondered what the hell that was all about. "Fine, where are we?"

Raynor put his hands down, but kept them at his sides. His armor would stop that sword, but there was no way to put down his visor before this man could stab him in the eye. He saw quickness in the man, and every movement reinforced Raynor's initial assessment - this man had seen his share of battles, and was not one to be taken lightly.

"You're in a place called the nexus." Raynor began. "When a universe exists, it bleeds magical energy. That energy is siphoned off into this realm. Over time, places and people are brought to the nexus as well."

The man just stared at Raynor, shaking his head. "She said we were taking the long way…" he muttered.

Raynor ignored the comment. "When magic builds up, it is contained in structures called cores, and occasionally we are forced to do battle to destroy these cores. The magic inside them is released back into the worlds from which it came." Raynor half shrugged. "Those of us who fight have been trying to learn more about this place, but it's slow going."

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So we're trapped here?"

Raynor chuckled. "Sort of. Some of us go back and forth, usually involuntarily. Others come and go as they please." He nodded to the man. "If you're trapped, I'll bet we can find someone who can get you home."

An annoyed grunt. "Who the hell do you think I was looking for?"

Raynor shrugged again. "No idea. I don't even know your name." Now he grinned. "But if your friend is nearby, we can find her."

"How?" The man asked, derisively. "I'm a goddamn witcher, and can't find anything." The man said this as if he expected Raynor to know what a 'witcher' was. Ignoring that, Raynor triggered a sensor sweep using his armor's thermal sensors. He got a ping to the north.

"Fortunately for you, my power armor can track for both of us." Raynor pointed north. "I detect one person, sitting by a fire, maybe two clicks that way."

The man looked in that direction, then back at Raynor. "Fine. But if you're lying to me…"

"Fine. If I'm lying to you, you can murder me. But if I'm not, then maybe we can help each other find a way out of this forest." Raynor held out a hand. "Jim Raynor, at your service."

The white-haired man looked at him, then at the hand. With a sigh, he took it in a firm handshake.

"Geralt of Rivia."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **Just a drabble, originally published on Ao3 in January 2018. Ciri gives you Witcher Crossovers for days, and the idea of Geralt in the Nexus is an intriguing one.**

 **I have plenty of irons in the fire at the moment, so any progress on another long-form Heroes of the Storm anything is a long way off. But I found myself thinking about the possibilities while working on another multi-universe story, Harry Potter, et al, and the Keystone Council. (And no, Geralt isn't showing up there.) (...I think.)**

 **Feedback, as always, is welcome.**


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